Chapter 7: Crawlers - C Language Cultivation

His body had undergone changes, positive ones at that. And all he had done was write an infinite loop program within a mysterious space. If explained using Old Master Huo’s set of theories on cultivation, this infinite loop program signified the initiation of "Foundation Establishment." If he was already like this at the mere beginning, what would happen to his body once Foundation Establishment was completed in ten days? Lin Xun gazed at the hawthorn tree swaying gently in the breeze and pressed his lips together. He stepped out of his room. Wang Anquan and Zhao Jiagou had already finished their lunch and were indulging in a midday break—playing games. Seeing him emerge, the two greeted him. Lin Xun sat on the couch, a heavy heart apparent as he took a sip of his cola, biting the straw flat. Then he said, “I have something to tell you guys.” Perhaps because of his solemn tone, Wang Anquan and Zhao Jiagou started AFK-ing from their game, looking up to listen to him. Lin Xun proceeded to recount the entire affair in detail. The two were silent for a moment, and finally, Wang Anquan said, “Are you sure it's not your illusion? I suggest continuing to see a psychiatrist.” Zhao Jiagou said, “Nobody with any sense would believe you. I’m calling 120 now.” Wang Anquan: “Never thought you were such a dreamer.” Lin Xun: "..." Lin Xun: “Alright then.” But he wasn't about to accept their ridicule, so he said, “I predict that in ten days, our company will have a surprise income, in units of 50.” Zhao Jiagou resumed the game and spoke while playing, “Algorithm, this world is materialistic; remember that.” Wang Anquan: “You're under too much mental stress. We have to hire a programmer soon to ease your workload.” Fine. According to the schedule, in ten days when his Foundation Establishment was complete, the system would award “Sect Funds 50,” and by then, he’d have the chance to prove them wrong. He pretended not to care about the matter anymore. “Let’s not discuss this.” Wang Anquan: “Let’s talk about hiring a programmer instead, and how much we’re going to pay them.” Lin Xun: “Our code is quite complex.” Luoshen was still in its infancy, an engine that could operate normally but lacked user-displayable features. Implementing them required extensive coding. Up until now, the code for "Luoshen" was written by the three of them. Each was skilled in their professional fields, yet none were particularly adept at programming. As a result, Luoshen’s core code was both ugly and lengthy, and Lin Xun was diligently working on designing optimized algorithms. Now, the volume of work needed had grown beyond their collective capability, necessitating a fourth person—someone with advanced skills, proficient in Python and BSP—which meant a high salary. Wang Anquan suggested, “Suppose we hire a programmer with a monthly salary of ten thousand.” Lin Xun: “What you’ll get is a programmer oriented towards Baidu and CSDN.” “When his salary increases to twenty thousand—” Zhao Jiagou: “He’ll be proficient in programming oriented towards Google and GitHub.” Wang Anquan: “Then we offer fifty thousand.” Lin Xun: “He’d be a competent programmer, but still not up to the challenge of programming for Luoshen.” Wang Anquan sighed, “Why is a coder so extravagant?” “Think of our value, Wang Anquan.” Zhao Jiagou shrugged, “Eas offered us a yearly salary of sixty or seventy during the first year, which was low, even though they added stock options which barely piqued our interest.” Wang Anquan: “How much did Eagle offer you?” Lin Xun could see they were about to dive into their endless debate comparing Python and Java, so he interjected: “I believe his salary range should be between seventy thousand and a hundred thousand...” “Then half of our funds will be gone, and we still need to rent servers.” Wang Anquan folded his arms, “So, Algorithm, do you know what your mission tonight is?” Lin Xun: “...I know.” —To ask Dong Jun for funds. Heaven knows, he was someone who hesitated thrice before even calling Dong Jun. Yet, the night inevitably arrived swiftly. Standing in front of the mirror, he asked, “Are you sure I should wear this?” Zhao Jiagou said, “I suggest you trust me.” Lin Xun scrutinized his reflection. A white high-neck sweater, not overly formal, with a beige trench coat. All in very light colors, and the soft high neck made him appear very... Lin Xun said, “This is the style my sister would like.” “Exactly,” Zhao Jiagou circled around him, “You look so well-behaved now, like a bunny just leaving its nest.” “Jiagou,” Lin Xun said, “Your analogies are improving.” “Thank you,” Zhao Jiagou adjusted his collar and continued, “But not overly meek, because your inherent demeanor is quite calm. So, it’s upward, youthful, and upward, very bright.” Lin Xun: “Your choice of words is inappropriate.” “Apologies,” Jiagou said, “Let me rephrase, you look like a younger brother.” Lin Xun: “?” Wang Anquan burst out laughing. “The ideal choice for an older woman-younger man romance, a charming little puppy wolf. Those women would see you and say—'I could.'” Zhao Jiagou added. Lin Xun could no longer keep up with Jiagou’s nonsense; he had not only become a brother but an unweaned animal. However, no matter the nonsense, just like with words, Jiagou’s aesthetic sense was the highest among the three of them. Moreover, he trusted his wardrobe. His sister, Lin Ting, four years his senior, was studying art abroad and undoubtedly had an excellent sense of style. Lin Xun’s wardrobe was curated meticulously by Lin Ting, with outfits arranged according to the occasion, never failing once. “Anyway,” Wang Anquan concluded, “Tonight, use your youthful charm and intellect to persuade Dong Jun to extend his investment.” Lin Xun: “Will you drop me off and pick me up?” “No, you’re a grown-up, Algorithm. You should take the bus yourself, then use this fact to evoke Dong Jun’s sympathy—a genius so unappreciated that he has to take the bus.” Lin Xun chose to ignore them, turning to leave. Just as he was leaving, he heard Zhao Jiagou still babbling, “Wang Anquan, look at Algorithm tonight, he looks just like nineteen, he could awaken any mothering instincts.” Lin Xun couldn’t help but retort, “But I’m meeting Dong Jun.” Zhao Jiagou: “Trust me, human instincts are universal.” Zhao Jiagou, he was truly a sophist. Lin Xun arrived at the rendezvous point. The place was around the Milky Way Building, a seemingly low-key Western restaurant, yet with exceptionally refined interiors, the air filled with soothing music and a hint of rose petals. Due to a number of red lights, he arrived roughly five minutes earlier than the agreed time. Dong Jun was already there. He wore a simple black shirt, sleeves rolled up, revealing his wrist, with only a silver watch as decoration, the collar unbuttoned. His glasses had dark gray frames with a matching chain. His expression was neutral, conveying a seriousness that seemed both solemn and not, beyond Lin Xun’s linguistic reach to describe accurately. “You’re here,” Dong Jun said. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Lin Xun sat down. “Not long,” Dong Jun said, pushing a glass of sherry towards him. A thin layer of frost coated the exterior of the wine glass, indicating it was chilled. Lin Xun recalled yesterday in the male deity's office... the glass of iced water offered. He thought, perhaps the deity shared his preference in avoiding hot beverages. “Is your residence far from here, Lin Xun?” “Six kilometers, not too far,” Lin Xun pressed his lips, “No need to call me ‘Mr. Lin,’ just using my name is fine. I’m... Lin Xun.” “Lin Xun...” Dong Jun repeated, “Do your friends call you that?” “Sometimes,” Lin Xun replied, “They often call me ‘Algorithm.’” It seemed as though Dong Jun held a hint of amusement in his eyes. Lin Xun explained, “Because one of them is called ‘Safety’ and the other ‘Structure.’” Dong Jun remarked, “Your team still needs someone called ‘Code.’” “Exactly, we’re looking for one,” Lin Xun replied, “But they’re hard to find.” “The Luoshen Algorithm is a brand-new structure.” “Yes, that's one reason, along with budget constraints... The salary we can offer isn’t enough to attract top programmers.” Lin Xun delivered this line in a half-joking fashion—despite being slightly flustered by the male deity, he hadn’t forgotten Wang Anquan’s earnest instructions. He watched Dong Jun take a light sip of wine; the lighting in the room was dim and romantic, casting fleeting glimmers within the glass. Only to hear Dong Jun ask, “When are you planning the first round of funding?” Eh? “Aren’t we...” Lin Xun held his gaze, “currently in the first round of funding?” “There might be some misunderstanding.” Dong Jun stated, “Purchasing equity is simply my personal gesture.” Lin Xun blinked. “In that case, when you start the first round of financing, you might prioritize the Milky Way’s venture capital instead of... Eagle and the like.” Lin Xun thought for a moment, “But only you have chosen us.” Dong Jun replied, “I like math.” Lin Xun asked, “Does that mean, during the first round of financing, the Milky Way will invest in Luoshen?” “As long as you deliver a preliminary result,” Dong Jun said, “You’ve convinced me with your algorithm; what follows is convincing the venture capital department with a tangible result.” Looking into Dong Jun’s eyes, Lin Xun felt that, within just two brief encounters, he had built a foundation of trust with him. Dong Jun didn’t seem as aloof or domineering as portrayed in the media; Lin Xun now even found him easy to talk to. He was reluctant to chalk this up to mere business acumen, holding onto a favorable impression of Dong Jun from the start. Following the train of conversation, he spoke of the next steps and the features he hoped to implement. “In theory, Luoshen can achieve all the functionalities of current intelligent systems. As for new features, I haven’t thought of them yet, but... its processing efficiency, according to the formula, will far surpass neural network engines. I plan to focus on that aspect.” Neural network engines, through analyzing vast amounts of data, can make judgments akin to “intelligence.” However, this creates a problem: the closer they get to genuine intelligence, the more data they require. The massive data volume leads to disasters, imposing high demands on hardware and software, particularly now with data mining technology hitting a bottleneck. A puzzling question remains—why the rapid judgments and learning capabilities of a 1,200-gram brain cannot be replicated in machines with vastly superior computing power and storage capacity. However, Luoshen could potentially narrow that gap. This implies a possibility—an exciting one—that perhaps, someday, it can be achieved. Lin Xun had always understood what he had been working on for the past three years. Even when Wang Anquan suggested disbanding multiple times, he remained unwavering. Dong Jun asked, “Do you have data to support your claims?” “Not yet,” Lin Xun replied, “We plan to rent servers tomorrow to start calculations.” Dong Jun tapped his fingers lightly on the table, “The Milky Way’s headquarters currently has spare servers available for Luoshen. When you need them, contact Ruan Zhi.” Lin Xun said, “Thank you...” Not having to consider renting server costs saved them a significant part of their budget, making the meeting with Dong Jun quite fruitful. With the contract confirmed and things settled, Dong Jun inquired about his progress. Lin Xun suddenly realized, while Luoshen had gained much, he himself had not yet fully seized the opportunity. —This was Dong Jun after all, a legendary programmer with hands blessed by Apollo! And he happened to have unresolved coding puzzlements! He began to solicit Dong Jun’s advice. —He had come prepared with paper and pen today. It wasn't until the waiter started serving the dishes that his questions ceased—still feeling an eagerness, reluctant to put away his notes. Dong Jun suddenly said something cryptic, “I only ordered one dessert.” Lin Xun expressed his confusion by not responding. Then he noticed a faint hint of amusement in Dong Jun’s eyes, “But your appearance today makes me think I should have ordered more.” Lin Xun: “…” He recalled Zhao Jiagou’s rambling words before leaving, something about “you look like a bunny that just left its nest.” Oh, correction, make that a little rabbit. He pretended he hadn’t heard or remembered anything. After dinner, Dong Jun asked, “How will you get home?” Lin Xun replied, “By bus.” Dong Jun offered, “Shall I give you a ride?” And just like that, Lin Xun found himself sitting in the male deity’s black Bentley, with an unresolved question which he could continue to explore during the ride. As he fastened his seatbelt, he thought, Zhao Jiagou was a scoundrel, but, as for Wang Anquan, he truly was a genius.